


Private Lessons

by requiemofspirit



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Cock Warming, F/M, Riding Crops, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25288495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/requiemofspirit/pseuds/requiemofspirit
Summary: You ask Lucifer for private lessons, deciding to go to his study dressed as a sexy schoolgirl. Let’s see if you learn your lesson.
Relationships: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 251





	Private Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to try something a little different with my writing this time! The request was for a feminine reader, though pronouns and physical descriptions are left mostly neutral.
> 
> My Tumblr: ibelongtowrath

“Come in.”

Lucifer sighs upon hearing your light knock against the bookcase, waiting for permission to enter the private study. He sets aside the endless stack of documents Diavolo had assigned to him on the desk of his private study, looking at them with disdain. He knows he’ll be up late yet again finishing them, and he can only hope the night is quiet so that he can get some semblance of a restful sleep later.

You had asked for private lessons with the Avatar of Pride, though he couldn’t fathom exactly why. A few months have passed since your arrival into the Devildom, and you seemed to be adjusting well to life here, save for the times you managed to get yourself into trouble, settling into your new routine and seemingly excelling in your classes.

Lucifer had patiently listened to your pleas as you begged him to help prepare you for an upcoming test. Much to his chagrin, he agreed, knowing Diavolo would insist upon the firstborn helping you. Admittedly, the thought of spending time with you outside of R.A.D. and student council meetings was pleasant.

The bookcase creaks upon opening, adding an eerie accent to the otherwise enchanting _TSL_ soundtrack lilting from the speakers behind Lucifer’s desk. He lifts his head upon hearing the sound, accompanied by a strange rhythmic clacking sound. A few seconds later, you step into his view.

The sight before him causes him to drop his most expensive, ornate inking pen, clattering onto the desk and spraying droplets of ink across the shining oak.

“Just _what_ did you think you were going to accomplish by wearing that… _outfit_ , if you can even call it that, to our meeting?” Lucifer growls.

His intense crimson eyes rake over your scantily-clad body in both disdain and interest, unable to deny the appeal. They settle upon your breasts, barely covered by your green R.A.D. uniform shirt that has clearly been altered to a sleeveless, cropped shadow of its former glory. The buttons are mostly undone, your breasts practically spilling out of the top.

Lucifer’s gaze continues to make its way down your body. He studies the expanse of your exposed abdomen before moving to the low-slung, meager excuse of a red plaid skirt that barely covers your backside; your legs adorned by black knee-high socks and patent-leather heeled Mary Janes.

“What are you talking about?” you respond, looking down at yourself, though you are secretly pleased.

“You know _exactly_ what I mean. Do not play dumb with me, dear; I know you are anything but. I am also very curious to hear why you thought it a good idea to defile the R.A.D. uniform shirt in such a way. Even Asmodeus wouldn’t dare do such a thing.”

“It needed some work. Asmo would be proud,” you retort. “So…are we going to get started on the lessons, or are you just going to lecture me about my clothes?”

Lucifer’s eye twitches in response. Internally, he fights a battle between logic and desire, thoughts beginning to cloud over as his gaze falls back to your thighs in that short, short piece of fabric you call a “skirt.”

After a few seconds, a wicked smirk tugs at the corner of his lip. You falter, tugging the hem of your skirt down, unsure of exactly what his look indicates. You tuck a strand of soft hair behind your ear as you await his response.

“That’s right, pet. You are here for a private lesson with me, are you not?” Lucifer purrs. He leans forward on his desk, resting his head on his gloved hands.

“Y-yes...?” you answer, unsure of the implication behind his question.

“Then, perhaps we should get started on that lesson _promptly_ , don’t you think? Why don’t you come closer, my dear? Don’t forget your books, place them on my desk.”

Your heart begins to race, as though someone is in the driver’s seat, slamming the gas pedal to the floor. You purposely wore the outfit to get a rise out of Lucifer, and perhaps something else as well. Now that the opportunity was potentially presented to you, every nerve ending on your body suddenly felt electrified. Your heels click against the laminated wood as you cross the room, standing before Lucifer’s desk. You place your textbooks on the desk as instructed, hands clasped together in front of you. Lucifer tsks, shaking his head.

“Now, now, darling,” he coos, “I told you to come closer. This won’t do.”

“U-um…,” you stammer. “Okay.”

Nervously traipsing to the side of his desk, you pause, pulling down the hem of your skirt once more. Lucifer grins before reaching for your arm, gently yanking you closer to him until you stand directly next to his chair. The Avatar of Pride tsks and chuckles, looking behind you, studying the floor.

“Should I punish you for scuffing up the floor with those shoes as well?” he teases. “Well, well...I think I will just have to save that for another private session.”

The mention of potential punishment, coupled with the close proximity to the demon, causes your legs to tremble slightly. As though he can sense the waves of desire practically rolling off your body, Lucifer smirks, tugging you ever closer. 

His rouge jewel-toned eyes bore into yours; beautiful yet expressionless, the demon lord knows how to maintain a composed facade, even when he is feeling anything but. The sight of your half-naked, scantily-clad body before him has him feeling feral, set on having his way with you. Though, like a feline toying with its prey, he fully intends to make you beg for _mercy_.

Slowly, not faltering for a single second, Lucifer reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk. He smiles as you watch him pull out a black riding crop, the way your eyes widen in surprise such a delicious feeling, igniting the sadist deep within.

“What’s the matter, pet?” Lucifer drawls. “Surely you have seen one of these before?”

“I have, but...,” your reply trails off, eyes transfixed on Lucifer’s gloved fingers gliding back and forth over the crop.

“A riding crop; its primary intention was for jockeys to whip their horses. They believed that the horses needed encouragement to run faster and win races for their human owners. Many believed it to be unjust and cruel to the animal...”

Lucifer turns the riding crop around, sliding it between your legs and smirking at your whimper. He rubs the tip of it back and forth over your panties, continuing his rhetoric.

“...however, its use has certainly evolved to other, more _pleasurable,_ purposes since that time.”

The accelerator on your desire is now glued to the floor; pedal to the metal, with no intention of stopping. Arousal seeps into your panties as you mewl, the tip of the riding crop teasing you ever-so-slightly as Lucifer remains seemingly calm and collected. After a few more moments of teasing, he pulls the riding crop away from you. He examines the tip of it, feeling smug as he sees your abundant wet excitement decorating the crop deliciously.

“Well, pet, it appears as though I also need to provide you with some encouragement to assist you in the _reinforcement_ of your lessons. Is that right?” Lucifer asks, feeling self-satisfied.

“U-um,” you stutter in response.

Lucifer moves closer to the edge of his seat and, without warning, reaches for your arm; tugging down, he bends you over his knee, folding your body in half over it. Your backside sticks up into the air, the flimsy fabric of your skirt flipped up in the effort. 

His cock twitches at the sight of your panties so openly displayed before him. He tugs at them, essentially ripping them off and discarding them onto the floor as he wraps his fingers around the riding crop, teasing the tip of it over the smooth skin of your now-bare ass.

“The first lesson of your _private session_ that you have so boldly requested, my dear?” Lucifer growls. “ _Do not play dumb with me_.”

He raises the crop up, whipping it hard against your ass. You clench your jaw at the sting but remain otherwise silent. Once more, you hear the crop slicing through the air, smacking against the soft, sensitive skin; Lucifer relishes at the red mark it leaves behind. 

You hiss this time, unable to hide your reaction to the searing pain. His gloved hand presses against the stinging skin and you hiss again, your eyes focused on the floor; desperate to curl your fingers into something. 

“Have you learned your lesson, darling?” Lucifer hisses, pressing harder into your skin.

“Yes. Y-yes, I have,” you mewl.

“I don’t think you have. Not quite yet.”

_Crack!_ The crop slices through the air once more, making a sharp cracking noise as it makes contact; a sharp contrast to the pleasantly cheerful _TSL_ soundtrack playing in the background.

“N-ngh!” 

Your loud, pain-filled cry reverberates throughout the room. Lucifer’s cock hardens beneath his pants at the sound. He threads his fingers into your hair, gently yanking you back to a standing position next to him.

“There, there. That’s a good girl. Are you ready for your next?” Lucifer asks.

His free hand reaches for his pants, unfastening his belt. Your eyes stare, the stinging pain over your previous punishment almost instantly waning at the thought of his cock sheathed between your walls. Excitement practically dripping down your legs now that your panties are on the floor, you squeeze them together, fighting the urge to sink to your knees and beg Lucifer to have his way with you. 

As though sensing your eagerness, Lucifer’s wicked grin returns; though he hardly has to _sense_ anything, you’re practically foaming at the mouth, more than eager for him to ravage you. His zipper comes undone and he tugs at the hem of his pants, pulling them down _just_ enough that his now-hardened length springs out, enjoying the feral look in your eyes at the sight.

“Your next lesson, pet...”

Releasing his grip on your hair, Lucifer grabs your hips and pulls you in front of him, positioning you over his cock.

“...is not to tempt me, for I guarantee I can exercise _much_ more control.”

As if in punctuation to his sharp words, Lucifer pushes your hips onto him, fully sheathing himself inside your tight, wet heat. A gasping, pleasurable moan escapes from between your lips. He holds back a groan of satisfaction, knowing he has to toy with you before he can have his way with you. His fingers wrap into your hair once more, yanking your head back, his lips whispering into your ear.

“You are going to be a good little pet and keep my cock warm while you study,” he hisses, nipping at your earlobe. “You are not to move around. If you behave, well... _good girls earn rewards_.”

Lucifer bucks his hips in emphasis, smirking at your surprised yelp.

“And if you think I will be the one to break first, pet, you are sorely mistaken. I have existed on this plane for millennia; it will be _quite_ the cold day in Hell before the Avatar of Pride _ever_ concedes. Now...open your book, and begin your studies. I will inform you when you are finished. Understood?”

“U-understood, Lucifer,” you whimper.

Leaning forward, you gasp, feeling Lucifer’s cock press against your most sensitive spot. You grit your teeth, grasping the _Devildom Biology_ textbook and sliding it towards you as quickly as possible, desperate to get back to an upright position. 

Turning to the chapter on cell structure and healing rituals, you feel your body begin to tremble; your pussy practically quivering, desperate to roll your hips over Lucifer’s cock as he continually slams into you, _not_ sit still between your walls. Lucifer reaches around you to grab his pen, resuming his work for Diavolo. He feels your trembling heat around him and smirks, running a hand along the curve of your waist.

“I do hope you’re studying, pet. You seemed _so_ concerned that you won’t excel on the test,” Lucifer whispers.

Deciding not to dignify his taunt with a response, you furrow your brow, attempting to focus on the words before you, but ultimately failing. Your chest tightens, desire flowing through your veins, through every fiber of your being. It pulses through your heart, pumping into each part of your body.

_Fuck this test_ , you think, sweat practically dripping down your brow. Your eyes slide to Lucifer’s gloved hand to your right, writing notes and signing papers as though carefree; a complete contrast to your state of struggle.

Your eyes skim over the words as you turn the pages, several jumping out at you, _seeing_ the words rather than reading and comprehending them. Every nerve ending in your body feels on fire, especially between your hips. Your clit, the oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves, aches to be touched as your pussy is stuffed to the brim with the Avatar of Pride’s generously-sized cock. You squirm a bit, biting back a whimper of desperation.

Lucifer mentioned being alive for millennia. It certainly feels as though that much time has passed, an eternity of sitting on his fucking cock. Finally, _finally_ , you reach the end of the chapter, heartbeat pulsing louder through your chest as you close the book slowly in anticipation. Several moments pass by as Lucifer shifts slightly behind you, the movement causing his cock to press into you once more. 

You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle the moan that escapes your lips as he smiles smugly behind you, continuing his work, resolving to push you just a _little_ further. Another eternity passes as your fingers grip the edge of the desk, desperate to hold onto something, anything, to keep your control.

“Well, well, pet...,” Lucifer purrs into your ear, biting and sucking on the lobe. “You did _very_ well. I admit I am pleasantly surprised. It takes a lot of discipline to exercise such control.”

Lucifer lifts your hips, pulling out of you and smirking as you whimper at the loss.

“Fear not, darling,” he continues. “I _did_ say good girls get rewarded.”

Placing a hand on the small of your back, Lucifer pushes you forward, bending your body over the desk, pinning your wrists behind your back. You turn your head to look at him, desire etched all over your delicate features. He positions himself behind you, teasing his cock at your dripping entrance, relishing the way you whine pleasurably. 

Lucifer thrusts into you roughly, leaning forward and biting your shoulder.

“Now, time for your final task. _Show me just how loud you can purr for me, my pet_.” 


End file.
